So have they spent themselves, and here they lie
A famous mark of our discovery.
We that survive, perchance may end our days
In some employment meriting no praise,
And in a dunghil rot; when no man names
The memory of us but to our shames.
They have out-lived this fear, and their brave ends
Will ever be an honour to their friends.
Why drop you so, mine eyes? nay rather pour
My sad departure in a solemn shower!
The winter's cold, that lately froze our blood,
Now were it so extreme, might do this good,
As make these tears, bright pearls, which I would lay
Tomb'd safely with you, till doom's fatal day;
That in this solitary place, where none
Will ever come to breathe a sigh or groan,
Some remnant might be extant, of the true
And faithful love I ever tendered you.
Oh, rest in peace, dear friends! and, let it be
No pride to say, the sometime part of me.
What pain and anguish doth afflict the head,
The heart and stomach when the limbs are dead,
So grieved, I kiss your graves, and vow to die
A foster-father to your memory.
205. Brevity of the Greek and English compared.
An an instance of compression and
